A WITTY foreigner, watching the course of the
American Revolution, wrote to
Benjamin Franklin that
Great Britain was undertaking the task "of catching two millions of
people in a boundless desert with fifty thousand men." This was a
crude and inaccurate way of putting it, but it expresses succinctly
the magnitude and difficulty of the campaign that lay before the
British generals. They had to contend with an illusive enemy in his
own country, constantly strengthened by uprisings of the people in
each vicinity where the war was at the minute going on; they were
unable to move far from their bases of supplies, which were
necessarily the great seaport towns they might capture; they were
hampered by lack of real heartiness in the English people for the
struggle; and they were selfdeceived as to the assistance they might
hope for from Tory sympathizers in this country. When Parliament
rather reluctantly authorized the raising of twenty-five thousand
men for the war, Great Britain was still forced to obtain most of
this number by subsidizing German mercenaries from the small
principalities, who were indiscriminately called
Hessians by the colonists, and
the employment of whom did much to still further provoke bitterness
of feeling. At one time in the Revolution Great Britain had over
three hundred thousand men in arms, the world over, but of this
number not more than one-tenth could be sent to America. But the
greatest obstacle to British success lay in the fact that the
English leaders, military and civil, constantly underrated the
courage, endurance, and earnestness of their opponents. That raw
militia could stand their ground against regulars was a hard lesson
for the British to learn; that men from civil life could show such
aptitude for strategy as did Washington,
Schuyler, and
Greene, was a
revelation to the professional military men the significance of
which they grasped only when it was too late.

Above all, the one thing that made the colonists
the victors was the indomitable energy, sacrifice, and strategic
ability of George Washington. We are so accustomed to think of
Washington's moral qualities, that it is only when we come close to
the history of the war that we fully recognize how great was his
military genius —a genius which justly entitles him to rank with the
few truly great soldiers of history, such as Alexander, Caesar,
Napoleon,
Robert E. Lee and Von Moltke. Almost alone among the American
generals of the Revolution, he was always willing to subordinate his
own personal glory to the final success of his deep laid and
comprehensive plans. Again and again he risked his standing with
Congress, and ran the danger of being superseded by one or another
jealous general of lower rank, rather than yield in a particle his
deliberate scheme of campaign. Others received the popular honors
for brilliant single movements while he waited and planned for the
final result. What the main lines of his strategy were we shall
endeavor to make clear in the following sketch:

When the news of the running
fight from Concord to
Lexington spread through the country, the militia hurried from
every direction toward Boston. Israel Putnam literally left his
plough in the field; John Stark, with his sturdy
New Hampshire volunteers,
reached the spot in three days; Nathaniel Greene headed fifteen
hundred men from Rhode Island;
Benedict Arnold led a band of patriots from
Connecticut; the more distant
colonies showed equal eagerness to aid in the defense of American
liberties. Congress displayed deep wisdom in appointing
George
Washington Commander in Chief, not only because of his personal
ability and the trust all men had in him, but because it was
politically an astute measure to choose the leader from some other
State than Massachusetts.
But before Washington could reach the Continental forces, as they
soon began to be called, the
battle of Bunker Hill had been fought.
And before that, even, Ethan Allen, with his
Green Mountain Boys,
had seized Fort Ticonderoga " in the name of Jehovah and the
Continental Congress
"-which Congress, by the way, showed momentarily some reluctance to
sanction this first step of aggressive warfare. The occupation by
Allen and Arnold of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, at the southern end
of Lake Champlain, was of great military importance, both because of
the large quantities of ammunition stored there, and because these
places defended the line of the Hudson River valley against an
attack from Canada.

The battle of
Bunker Hill, looked at from the
strictly military point of view, was a blunder on both sides,
astonishing as was its moral effect. The hill, properly named
Breed's Hill, but to which the name of Bunker Hill is now forever
attached, rises directly back of Charlestown, on a peninsula
connected with the main land by a narrow isthmus. The American
forces seized this on the night of June 16th, 1775, and worked the
night through entrenching themselves as well as they could. With the
morning came the British attack. The position might easily have been
reduced by seizing the isthmus, and for this reason the Americans
had hardly shown military sagacity in their occupation of the hill.
But the British chose rather to storm the works from the front.
Three times the flower of the English army in battle line swept up
the hill; twice they were swept back with terrible loss, repulsed by
a fire which was reserved until they were close at
hand;
the third time they seized the position, but only when the Americans
had exhausted their ammunition, and even then only after a severe
hand to hand fight. The British loss was over a thousand men; the
American loss about four hundred and fifty. When Washington heard of
the battle he instantly asked if the New England militia had stood
the fire of the British regulars, and when the whole story was told
him he exclaimed, "The liberties of the country are safe." The
spirit shown then and thereafter by our sturdy patriots is well
illustrated by the story (chosen as the subject of one of our
pictures) of the minister, who when in one battle there was a lack
of wadding for the guns, brought out an armful of hymn books and
exclaimed " Give them Watts, boys ! "

The next clash of arms came from Canada.
General
Montgomery led two thousand of the militia against Montreal, by way
of Lake Champlain, and easily captured it (November 12, 1775).
Thence he descended the St. Lawrence to
Quebec, where he joined
forces with Benedict Arnold, who had brought twelve hundred men
through the Maine wilderness, and the two Generals attacked the
British stronghold of Quebec. The attempt was a failure ; Arnold was
wounded, Montgomery was killed, andthough the Americans fought
gallantly they were driven back from Canada by superior forces.

Meanwhile the siege of Boston was systematically
carried on by Washington, and in the spring of 1776 the American
General gained a commanding position by seizing Dorchester Heights
(which bore much the same relation to Boston on the South that
Breed's Hill did on the North) and
General Howe found himself forced
to evacuate the city. He sailed with his whole force for Halifax,
taking with him great numbers of American sympathizers with British
rule, together with their property.

The new Congress met at Philadelphia in May.
During the first month of its sessions it became evident that there
had been an immense advance in public opinion as to the real issue
to be maintained. Several of the colonies had expressed a positive
conviction that National independence must be demanded.
Virginia had formally instructed
her delegates to take that ground, and it was on the motion of
Richard Henry Lee, of
Virginia, seconded by John Adams, of
Massachusetts, that
Congress proceeded to consider the resolution "That these united
colonies are
and of right ought to be free and independent States; that they are
absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all
political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is
and ought to be totally dissolved." This bold utterance was adopted
on July 2d by all the colonies except
New York. The opposition came
mainly from Pennsylvania and
New York, and was based, not on
lack of patriotism, but on a feeling that the time for such an
assertion had not yet come, that a stronger central government
should first be established, and that attempts should be made to
secure a foreign alliance. It should be noticed that the strongest
opponents of the measure, John Dickinson and
Robert Morris, of
Pennsylvania, were among the most patriotic supporters of the Union.
To Robert Morris in particular, whose skill as a financier steered
the young Nation through many a difficulty, the country owes a
special debt of gratitude. The
Declaration of Independence, formally
adopted two days later, was written mainly by the pen of
Thomas
Jefferson. It is unique among State papers —a dignified though
impassioned, a calm though eloquent, recital of injuries inflicted,
demand for redress, and avowal of liberties to be maintained with
the sword. Its adoption was hailed, the country through, as the
birth of a new Nation. Never before has a country about to appeal to
war to decide its fate put upon record so clear-toned and deliberate
an assertion of its purposes and its reasons, and thus summoned the
world and posterity to witness the justice and righteousness of its
cause.

Thus far in the war the engagements between the
opposing forces had been of a detached kind not related, that is, to
any broad plan of attack or defense. Of the same nature also was the
British expedition against
South Carolina, led by Sir Henry Clinton and
Lord Cornwallis.
Their fleet attacked Charleston, but the fort was so bravely
defended by Colonel Moultrie, from his palmetto-log fortifications
on Sullivan's Island, that the fleet was forced to abandon the
attempt and to return to New York. But the British now saw that it
was imperative to enter upon a distinct and extensive plan of
campaign. That adopted was sagacious and logical; its failure was
due, not to any inherent defect in itself, but to lack of
persistency in adhering to it. Washington understood it thoroughly
from the first, and bent all his energies to tempting the enemy to
diverge from the main object in view. The plan, in brief, was this:

New York City was to be seized and held as a base
of supplies and center of operations; from it a stretch of country
to the west was to be occupied and held, thus cutting off
communication between New York
and the New England States on
the one side and Pennsylvania
and the Southern States on the other. Meanwhile a force was to be
pushed down from Canada to the head of the Hudson River, to be met
by another force pushed northward up the Hudson. In this way New
England would be practically surrounded, and it was thought that its
colonies could be reduced one by one, while simultaneously or later
an army could march southward upon Philadelphia. The plan was quite
feasible, but probably at no time did the British have sufficient
force to carry it out in detail. They woefully overestimated, also,
the assistance they might receive from the Tories in New York State.
And they still more woefully underestimated Washington's ability as
a strategist in blocking their schemes.

General Howe, who was now Commander-in-Chief of
the British army, drew his forces to a head upon Staten Island,
combining there the troops which had sailed from Boston to Halifax,
with Clinton's forces which had failed at Charleston, and the
Hessians newly arrived. In all he had over thirty thousand soldiers.
Washington, who had transferred his headquarters from Boston to the
vicinity of New York after the
former city had been evacuated by the British, occupied the Brooklyn
Heights with about twenty thousand poorly equipped and undrilled
colonial troops. To hold that position against the larger forces of
regulars seemed a hopeless task; but every point was to be
contested. In point of fact, only five thousand of the Americans
were engaged in the battle of Long Island (August 27, 1776) against
twenty thousand men brought by General Howe from Staten Island. The
Americans were driven back after a hotly contested fight. Before
Howe could follow up his victory Washington planned and executed one
of those extraordinary, rapid movements which so often amazed his
enemy; in a single night he withdrew his entire army across the East
River into New York in boats, moving so secretly and swiftly that
the British first found out what had happened when they saw the
deserted camps before them on the following morning. Drawing back
through the city Washington made his next stand at
Harlem Heights,
occupying Fort Washington on the east and Fort Lee on the west side
of the Hudson, thus guarding the line of the river while prepared to
move southward toward Philadelphia if occasion should require.

In the battle of White Plains the Americans
suffered a repulse, but much more dispiriting to Washington was the
disarrangement of his plans caused by the interference of Congress.
That over-prudent body sent special orders to General Greene, at
Fort Washington, to hold it at all odds, while Washington had
directed Greene to be ready on the first attack to fall back upon
the main army in New Jersey.
The result was the capture of Fort Washington, with a loss of three
thousand prisoners. To add to the misfortune,
General Charles Lee,
who commanded a wing of the American army on the east side of the
river, absolutely ignored Washington's orders to join him. Lee was a
soldier of fortune, vain, ambitious, and volatile, and there is
little doubt that his disobedience was due to his hope that
Washington was irretrievably ruined and that he might succeed to the
command. Gathering his scattered troops together as well as he
could, Washington retreated through New Jersey, meeting everywhere
with reports that the colonists were in despair, that many had given
in their allegiance to the British, that Congress had fled to
Baltimore, and that the war was looked on as almost over. In this
crisis it was an actual piece of rare good fortune that Charles Lee
should be captured by soldiers while spending the night at a tavern
away from his camp, for the result was that Lee's forces were free
to join Washington's command, and at once did so. Altogether some
six thousand men were left in the army, and were drawn into
something like coherence on the other side of the Delaware River.
General Howe announced that he had now nothing to do but wait the
freezing of the Delaware, and then to cross over and "catch
Washington and end the war."

But he reckoned without his host. Choosing, as
the best time for his bold and sudden movement, Christmas night,
when revelry in the camp of the enemy might be hoped to make them
careless, Washington crossed the river. Leading in person the
division of twenty-five hundred men, which alone succeeded in making
the passage over the river, impeded as it was with great blocks of
ice, he marched straight upon the
Hessian outposts at Trenton and captured them with ease. Still
his position was a most precarious one.
Cornwallis was at
Princeton
with the main British army, and marching directly upon the
Americans, penned them up, as he thought, between Trenton and the
Delaware. It is related that Cornwallis remarked, "At last we have
run down the old fox, and we will bag him in the morning." But
before morning came Washington had executed another surprising and
decisive maneuver. Maintaining a great show of activity at his
entrenchments, and keeping campfires brightly burning, he
noiselessly led the main body of his army round the flank of the
British force and marched straight northward upon Princeton,
capturing as he went the British rear guard on its way to Trenton,
seizing the British post of supplies at New Brunswick, and in the
end securing a strong position on the hills in Northern New Jersey,
with Morristown as his headquarters. There he could at last rest for
a time, strengthen his army, and take advantage of the prestige
which his recent operations had brought him.

Let us turn our attention now to the situation
further north. General Burgoyne had advanced southward from Canada
through Lake Champlain and had easily captured Ticonderoga. His
object was, of course, to advance in the same line to the south
until he reached the Hudson River ; but this was a very different
matter from what he had supposed it. General Schuyler was in command
of the Americans, and showed the highest military skill in opposing
Burgoyne's progress, cutting off his supplies and harassing him
generally. An expedition to assist Burgoyne had been sent down the
St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario, thence to march eastward to the head
of the Hudson, gathering aid as it went from the Indians and Tories.
This expedition was an utter failure; at
Oriskany the Tories and
British were defeated in a fiercely fought battle, in which a
greater proportion of those engaged were killed than in any other
battle of the war. Disheartened at this, and at the near approach of
Benedict Arnold, St. Leger, who was at the head of the expedition,
fled in confusion back to Canada. Meanwhile Burgoyne had sent out a
detachment to gather supplies. This was utterly routed at
Bennington
by the Vermont farmers under General Stark.

Through all the country round about the Americans
were flocking to arms, their patriotism enforced by their horror at
the atrocities committed by Burgoyne's Indian allies and by the
danger to their own homes. Practically, Burgoyne was surrounded, and
though he fought bravely in the battles of
Stillwater (September 19,
1777) and Bemis's Heights (October 7th), he was overmatched. Ten
days after the last-named battle he surrendered with all his forces
to General Gates,
who was now at the head of the American forces in that vicinity and
thus received the nominal honor of the result, although it was
really due rather to the skill and courage of General Schuyler and
General Arnold. Almost six thousand soldiers laid down their arms,
and the artillery, small arms, ammunition, clothing, and other
military stores which fell into General Gates's hands were immensely
valuable. Almost greater than the practical gain of this splendid
triumph was that of the respect at once accorded throughout the
world to American courage and military capacity.

Surrender of General Burgoyne

General Burgoyne had every right to lay the blame
for the mortifying failure of his expedition upon Howe, who had
totally failed to carry out his part of the plan of campaign. It was
essential to the success of this plan that Howe should have pushed
an army up the Hudson to support Burgoyne. In leaving this undone he
committed the greatest blunder of the war. Why he acted as he did
was for a long while a mystery, but letters brought to light eighty
years after the war was over show that he was strongly influenced by
the traitorous arguments of his prisoner, Charles Lee, who for a
time, at least, had decided to desert the American cause. While in
this frame of mind he convinced Howe that there was plenty of time
to move upon and seize Philadelphia and still come to Burgoyne's aid
in season. Howe should have known Washington's methods better by
this time. At first the British General attempted a march through
New Jersey, but for nearly three weeks Washington blocked his
movements, outmaneuvered him in the fencing for advantage of
position, and finally compelled him to withdraw, baffled, to
New York. Though no fighting of
consequence occurred in this period, it is, from the military
standpoint, one of the most interesting of the entire war. The
result was that Howe, unwilling to give up his original design,
transported his army to the mouth of the Delaware by sea, then
decided to make his attempt by way of Chesapeake Bay, and finally,
after great delay, landed his forces at the head of that bay, fifty
miles from Philadelphia. Washington interposed his army between the
enemy and the city and for several weeks delayed its inevitable
capture.

In the Battle of Brandywine the Americans put
eleven thousand troops in the field against eighteen thousand of the
British, and were defeated, though by no means routed (September 11,
1777). After Howe had seized the city he found it necessary to send
part of his army to capture the forts on the Delaware River, and
this gave the Americans the opportunity of an attack with evenly
balanced forces. Unfortunately, the
battle of Germantown was, by
reason of a heavy fog, changed into a confused conflict, in which
some American regiments fired into others, and which ended in the
retreat of our forces. Washington drew back and went into
winter
quarters at Valley Forge. Congress, on the approach of the enemy,
had fled to York. Howe had accomplished his immediate object, but at
what a cost! The possession of Philadelphia had not appreciably
brought nearer the subjugation of the former colonies, while the
opportunity to cooperate with Burgoyne had been irretrievably lost,
and, as we have seen, a great and notable triumph had been gained by
the Americans in his surrender.

The memorable winter which Washington spent at
Valley Forge he often described as the darkest of his life. The
course of the war had not been altogether discouraging, but he had
to contend with the inaction of Congress, with cabals of envious
rivals, and with the wretched lack of supplies and food. He writes
to Congress that when he wished to draw up his troops to fight, the
men were unable to stir on account of hunger, that 2898 men were
unfit for duty because they were barefooted and half naked, that
"for seven days past there has been little else than a famine in the
camp." Meanwhile an intrigue to supersede Washington by
Gates was on
foot and nearly succeeded. The whole country also was suffering from
the depreciated Continental currency and from the lack of power in
the general government to lay taxes. What a contrast is there
between Washington's position at this time and the enthusiasm with
which the whole country flocked to honor him in the autumn of the
first year of his Presidency (1789), when he made a journey which
was one long series of ovations. An idea of the character of these
is given in the accompanying picture of his reception at Trenton,
where the date on the triumphal arch recalled that famous Christmas
night when he outwitted the British.

But encouragement from abroad was at hand.
Perhaps the most important result of Burgoyne's surrender was its
influence in procuring us the French Alliance. Already a strong
sympathy had been aroused for the American cause in France. The
nobility were influenced in no small degree by the sentimental and
philosophical agitation for ideal liberty which preceded the brutal
reality of the French Revolution.
Lafayette, then a mere boy of
eighteen, had fitted out a ship with supplies at his own expense,
and had laid his services at Washington's command. Our Commissioners
to France --John Adams, Arthur Lee, and
Benjamin Franklin had
labored night and day for the alliance. Franklin, in particular,
had, by his shrewd and homely wit, his honesty of purpose and his
high patriotism, made a profound impression upon the French people.
We read that on one occasion he was made to embrace the role of an
Apostle of Liberty at an elegant fete where "the most beautiful of
three hundred women was designated to go and place on the
philosopher's white locks a crown of laurel, and to give the old man
two kisses on his cheeks." Very " French " this, but not without its
significance. But after all, the thing which turned the scale with
the French Government was the partial success of our armies. France
was only too willing, under favoring circumstances, to obtain its
revenge upon Great Britain for many recent defeats and slights. So
it was that in the beginning of 1778 the independence of the United
States was recognized by France and a fleet was, sent to our
assistance. During the winter, meanwhile, the
thirteen States
had adopted in Congress
articles of
confederation and perpetual union, which were slowly and
hesitatingly ratified by the legislatures of the several States.

The news of the reinforcements on their way from
France, led Sir Henry Clinton, who had now succeeded Howe in the
chief command of the British, to abandon Philadelphia, and mass his
forces at New York. This he did in June, 1778, sending part of the
troops by sea and the rest northward, through
New Jersey. Washington
instantly broke camp, followed the enemy, and overtook him at
Monmouth Court House. In the battle which followed the forces were
equally balanced, each having about fifteen thousand men. The
American attack was entrusted to Charles Lee, who had been
exchanged, and whose treachery was not suspected. Again Lee
disobeyed orders, and directed a retreat at the critical minute of
the fight. Had Washington not arrived, the retreat would have been a
rout; as it was he turned it into a victory, driving the British
from their position, and gained the honors of the day. But had it
not been for Lee, this victory might have easily been made a
crushing and final defeat for the British army. A court-martial held
upon Lee's conduct expelled him from the army. Years later he died a
disgraced man, though it is only in our time that the full extent of
his dishonor has been understood.

WASHINGTON REPROVING LEE AT MONMOUTH.

The scene of the most important military operations now changes from
the Northern to the Southern States. But before speaking of the
campaign which ended with Cornwallis's surrender, we may
characterize the fighting in the North, which went on in the latter
half of the war, as desultory and unsystematic in its nature. The
French fleet under Count d'Estaing was unable to cross the New York
bar on account of the depth of draught of its greatest ships; and
for that reason the attempt to capture New York City was abandoned.
Its next attempt was to wrest Rhode Island from the British. This
also was defeated, partly because of a storm at a critical moment,
partly through a misunderstanding with the American allies. After
these two failures, the French fleet sailed to the West Indies to
injure British interests there. The
assault on the fort at Stony
Point by " Mad Anthony " Wayne has importance as a brilliant and
thrilling episode, and was of value in strengthening our position on
the Hudson River. All along the border the Tories were inciting the
Indians to barbarous attacks. The most important and deplorable of
these attacks were those which ended in the massacres at Wyoming and
Cherry Valley. Reprisals for these atrocities were taken by
General
Sullivan's expedition, which defeated the Tories and Indians
combined, near Elmira, with great slaughter. But all these events,
like the British sudden attacks on the
Connecticut ports of
New
Haven, Fairfield, and Norwalk, were, as we have said, rather
detached episodes than related parts of a campaign.

We should also note before entering upon the final chapter of the
war, that Great Britain had politically receded from her position.
Of her own accord she had offered to abrogate the offensive
legislation which had provoked the colonies to war. But it was too
late; the proposition of peace commissioners sent to America to
acknowledge the principle of taxation by colonial assemblies was not
for a moment considered. The watchword of America was now
Independence, and there was no disposition in any quarter to accept
anything less than full recognition of the rights of the United
States as a Nation.

The second and last serious and concerted effort by the British to
subjugate the American States had as its scene of operations our
Southern territory. At first it seemed to succeed. A long series of
reverses to the cause of independence were reported from
Georgia and
South Carolina. The plan
formed by Sir Henry Clinton and Cornwallis was, in effect, to begin
at the extreme South and overpower one State after another until the
army held in reserve about New York could cooperate with that
advancing victoriously from the South.
Savannah had been captured in
1778, while General Lincoln, who commanded our forces, was twice
defeated with great loss once at
Brier Creek, in an advance upon
Savannah, when his lieutenant, General Ashe, was actually routed
with very heavy loss; and once when Savannah had been invested by
General Lincoln himself by land, while the French fleet under
d'Estaing besieged the city by sea. In a short time Georgia was
entirely occupied by the British. They were soon reinforced by Sir
Henry Clinton in person, with an army, and the united forces moved
upward into South Carolina with thirteen thousand men. Lincoln was
driven into Charleston, was there besieged, and (May 12, 1780) was
forced to, surrender not only the city but his entire army. A
desultory but brilliant guerrilla warfare was carried on at this
time by the Southern militia and light cavalry under the dashing
leadership of Francis Marion, " the Swamp Fox," and the partisan,
Thomas Sumter.

These men were privateers on horseback. Familiar with the tangled
swamps and always well mounted, even though in rags themselves, they
were the terror of the invaders. At the crack of their rifles the
pickets of Cornwallis fled, leaving a score of dead behind. The
dreaded cavalry of Tarleton often came back from their raids with
many a saddle emptied by the invisible foes. They were here, they
were everywhere. Their blows were swift and sure ; their vigilance
sleepless. Tarleton had been sent by Cornwallis with a force of
seven hundred cavalry to destroy a patriot force in
North Carolina, under
Buford, which resulted in his utterly destroying about four hundred
of the patriots at Waxhaw, the affair being more of a massacre than
a battle. Thus the name of Tarleton came to be hated in the South as
that of Benedict Arnold was in the North. He was dreaded for his
celerity and cruelty. As illustrative of the spirit of the Southern
colonists, we may be pardoned for the digression of the following
anecdote. The fighting of Marion and his men was much like that of
the wild
Apaches of the southwest. When hotly pursued by the enemy his
command would break up into small parties, and these as they were
hard pressed would subdivide, until nearly every patriot was fleeing
alone. There could be no successful pursuit, therefore, since the
subdivision of the pursuing party weakened it too much.

"We will give fifty pounds to get within reach of the scamp that
galloped by here, just ahead of us," exclaimed a lieutenant of
Tarleton's cavalry, as he and three other troopers drew up before a
farmer, who was hoeing in the field by the roadside. The farmer
looked up, leaned on his hoe, took off his old hat and mopping his
forehead with his handkerchief looked at the angry soldier and said,
""Fifty pounds is a big lot of money." "So it is in these times, but
we'll give it to you in gold, if you'll show us where we can get a
chance at the rebel ; did you see him ? " "He was all alone, was he?
And he was mounted on a black horse with a white star in his
forehead, and he was going like a streak of lightning, wasn't he? "
That's the fellow !" exclaimed the questioners, hoping they were
about to get the knowledge they wanted.

TARLETON'S LIEUTENANT AND THE FARMER (JACK DAVIS).

"It looked to me like Jack Davis, though he went by so fast that I
couldn't get a square look at his face, but he was one of
Marion's
men, and if I ain't greatly mistaken it was Jack Davis himself."

Then looking up at the four British horsemen, the farmer added, with
a quizzical expression " I reckon that there Jack Davis has hit you
chaps pretty hard, ain't he ? "

"Never mind about that," replied the lieutenant ; "what we want to
know is where we can get a chance at him for just about five
minutes."

The farmer put his cotton handkerchief into his hat, which he now
slowly replaced, and shook his head : "I don't think he's hiding
round here," he said; "when he shot by Jack was going so fast that
it didn't look as if he could stop under four or five miles.
Strangers, I'd like powerful well to earn that fifty pounds, but I
don't think you'll get a chance to squander it on me."

After some further questioning, the lieutenant and his men wheeled
their horses and trotted back toward the main body of Tarleton's
cavalry. The farmer plied his hoe for several minutes, gradually
working his way toward the stretch of woods some fifty yards from
the roadside. Reaching the margin of the field, he stepped in among
the trees, hastily took off his clothing, tied it up in a bundle,
shoved it under a flat rock from beneath which he drew a suit no
better in quality, but showing a faint semblance to a uniform.
Putting it on and then plunging still deeper into the woods, he soon
reached a dimly-marked track, which he followed only a short
distance, when a gentle whinney fell upon his ear. The next moment
he vaulted on the back of a bony but blooded horse, marked by a
beautiful star in his forehead. The satin skin of the steed shone as
though he had been traveling hard, and his rider allowed him to walk
along the path for a couple of miles, when he entered an open space
where, near a spring, Francis Marion and fully two hundred men were
encamped. They were eating, smoking and chatting as though no such
horror as war was known.

You understand, of course, that the farmer that leaned on his hoe by
the roadside and talked to Tarleton's lieutenant about Jack Davis
and his exploits was Jack Davis himself.
Marion and his men had many stirring adventures. A British officer,
sent to settle some business with Marion, was asked by him to stay
to dinner. Marion was always a charming gentleman, and the visitor
accepted the invitation, but he was astonished to find that the meal
consisted only of baked sweet potatoes served on bark. No apology
was made, but the guest could not help asking his host whether that
dinner was a specimen of his regular bill of fare. "It is," replied
Marion, "except that today, in honor of your presence, we have more
than the usual allowance."

North Carolina was now in danger, and it was to be defended by the
overrated General Gates,
whose campaign was marked by every indication of military
incapacity. His attacks were invariably made recklessly, and his
positions were ill-chosen. At Camden he was utterly and
disgracefully defeated by Lord Cornwallis (August 16, 1780). It
seemed now as if the British forces could easily hold the territory
already won and could advance safely into
Virginia. This was, indeed, one
of the darkest periods in the history of our war, and even
Washington was inclined to despair.

To add to the feeling of despondency came the news of
Benedict
Arnold's infamous treachery. In the early part of the war he had
served, not merely with credit but with the highest distinction.
Ambitious and passionate by temper, he had justly been indignant at
the slights put upon him by the promotion over his head of several
officers who were far less entitled than he to such a reward. He had
also, perhaps, been treated with undue severity in his trial by
court-martial on charges relating to his accounts and matters of
discipline. No doubt he was greatly influenced by his marriage to a
lady of great beauty, who was in intimate relations with many of the
leading Tories. It is more than probable, still further, that he
believed the cause of American independence could never be won. But
neither explanations nor fancied wrongs in the least mitigate the
baseness of his conduct. He deliberately planned to be put in
command of West Point, with the distinct intention of handing it
over to the British in return for thirty thousand dollars in money
and a command in the British army. It was almost an accident that
the emissary between Arnold and Clinton,
Major Andre was captured by
Paulding and his rough but incorruptible fellows. Andre's personal
charm and youth created a feeling of sympathy for him, but it cannot
be for a moment denied that he was justly tried and executed, in
accordance, with the law of nations. Had Arnold's attempt succeeded,
it is more than likely that the blow dealt our cause would have been
fatal. His subsequent service in the British army only deepened the
feeling of loathing with which his name was heard by Americans;
while even his new allies distrusted and despised him, and at one
time Cornwallis positively refused to act in concert with him.

A bright and cheering contrast to this dark episode is that of the
glorious victories at sea won by
John Paul Jones, who not only
devastated British commerce, but, in a desperately fought naval
battle, captured two British men-of-war, the "Serapis" and the
"Countess of Scarborough," and carried the new
American flag into
foreign ports with the prestige of having swept everything before
him on the high seas. Here was laid the foundation of that
reputation for intrepidity and gallantry at sea which the American
navy so well sustained in our second war with Great Britain.

As the year 1780 advanced, the campaign in the South began to assume
a more favorable aspect. General Greene was placed in command of the
American army and at once began a series of rapid and confusing
movements, now attacking the enemy in front, now cutting off his
communications in the rear, but always scheming for the advantage of
position, and usually obtaining it. He was aided ably by "Light
Horse Harry" Lee and by General Morgan. Even before his campaign
began the British had suffered a serious defeat at
King's Mountain,
just over the line between North and South Carolina, where a body of
southern and western backwoodsmen had cut to pieces and finally
captured a British detachment of twelve hundred men. Greene followed
up this victory by sending Morgan to attack one wing of Cornwallis's
army at Cowpens, near by
King's Mountain, where again a large body
of the enemy were captured with a very slight loss on the part of
the Americans. Less decisive was the
battle of Guilford Court House
(March 15, 1781), which was contested with great persistency and
courage by both armies. At the end of the day the British held the
field, but the position was too perilous for Cornwallis to maintain
long, and he retreated forthwith to the coast. General Greene
continued to seize one position after another, driving the scattered
bodies of the British through
South Carolina and finally meeting them face to face at
Eutaw
Springs, where another equally contested battle took place; in
which, as at Guilford, the British claimed the honors of the day,
but which also resulted in their ultimately giving away before the
Americans and entrenching themselves in Charleston. Now, indeed, the
British were to move into Virginia,
not as they had originally planned, but because the more southern
States were no longer tenable. It seemed almost as if Greene were
deliberately driving them northward, so that in the end they might
be between two American armies. But they made a strong stand at
Yorktown, in which a small British army under Benedict Arnold was
already in possession and had been opposed by Lafayette.

Washington,
who had been watching the course of events with the keen eye of the
master strategist, saw that the time had come for a decisive blow.
The French fleet was sent to the Chesapeake, and found little
difficulty in reducing the British force and approaching
Yorktown by
sea. Washington's own army had been lying along the Hudson, centered
at West Point, ready to meet any movement by Sir Henry Clinton's
army at New York. Now Washington moved southward down the Hudson
into the upper part of New Jersey. It was universally believed that
he was about to attack the British at New York. Even his own
officers shared this belief. But with a rapidity that seems
astonishing, and with the utmost skill in handling his forces,
Washington led them swiftly on, still in the line toward the south,
and before Clinton had grasped his intention he was well on his way
to Virginia. Cornwallis was now assailed both by land and by sea;
he occupied a peninsula, from which he could not escape except by
forcing a road through Washington's united army of sixteen thousand
men. The city of Yorktown was bombarded for three weeks. An American
officer writes: "The whole peninsula trembles under the incessant thunderings of our infernal machines."
General Rochambeau who had
been placed in command of the French forces in America, actively
cooperated with Washington. The meeting of the two great commanders
forms the subject of one of our illustrations.

Good soldier and good general as Cornwallis was, escape was
impossible. On October 19, 1781, he suffered the humiliation of a
formal surrender of his army of over seven thousand men, with two
hundred and forty cannon, twenty-eight regimental standards, and
vast quantities of military stores and provisions (See
ARTICLES OF
CAPITULATION). When Lord North,
the English Minister, heard of the surrender, we are told, he paced
the floor in deep distress, and cried, " 0 God, it is all over !
"And so it was, in fact. The cause of American independence had
practically been won. Hostilities, it is true, continued in a feeble
and half-hearted way, and it was not until September, 1783, that the
Treaty of Peace secured by John Jay,
John Adams, and Benjamin
Franklin was actually signed —a treaty which was not only
honorable to us, but which, in the frontier boundaries adopted, was
more advantageous than even our French allies were inclined to
approve, giving us as it did the territory westward to the
Mississippi and southward to
Florida.
Great Britain as a nation had become heartily sick and tired of her
attempt to coerce her former colonies. As the war progressed she had
managed to involve herself in hostilities not only with France, but
with Spain and Holland, and even with the native princes of India.
Lord North's Ministry fell, the star of the younger Pitt arose into
the ascendency, and George the Third's attempt to establish a purely
personal rule at home and abroad was defeated beyond redemption.

As we read of the scanty recognition given by the American States to
the soldiers who had fought their battles; as we learn that it was
only Washington's commanding influence that restrained these
soldiers, half starved and half paid, from compelling that
recognition from Congress by force; as we perceive how many and
serious were the problems of finance and of government distracting
the State Legislatures; as, in short, we see the political
disintegration and chaotic condition of affairs in the newly born
Nation, we recognize the fact that the struggle which had just ended
so triumphantly was but the prelude to another, more peaceful but
not less vital, struggle that for the founding of a strong,
coherent, and truly National Government. The latter struggle began
before the Revolution was over and lasted until, in 1787, by mutual
concession and mutual compromise was formed the Constitution of the
United States.

Site Copyright 2003-2014
Son of the South.
For Questions or comments about this collection,